


Scene Stealer

by Leorge_Gucas



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Biology, Dildos, Hemipenes, Loneliness, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Phone Sex, Porn Watching, Sexual Frustration, Xenophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:30:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25360132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leorge_Gucas/pseuds/Leorge_Gucas
Summary: Cad Bane takes matters into his own hands.
Relationships: Cad Bane/Jango Fett
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	Scene Stealer

He was in a terrible mood. His mind was foggy and yesterday, for the first in a long time, his hands had shaken during target practice, which, to Cad, was nothing but intolerable. If he had not known any better, he would have guessed he was sick. Maybe it was some sort of sickness; one that clawed at the edges of his sanity, turned him into a dog in heat, some wild _thing_ without reason. Any and every thought wasted on feelings he had locked away. Cad despised the idea of having needs, emotions. That was for humans.

Now, there he was, boots resting on the switchboard, controlling depth and angle of the dildo with one hand, cigarette in the other. Tobacco hardly drowned out the smell of cheap plastic. It wasn’t that Cad Bane could not afford it; still, he would be kriffed to spend his hard-earned money on an overpriced fucktoy. One of these days he would cut his insides to ribbons but that only added to the thrill.

He readjusted his grip on the base of the toy, eyes fixed on the screen before him. Intergalactic travel was dull. Empty ship, no living soul for parsecs. He was not fooled; holoporn was a business built on the misery and sexual frustration of lonesome spacers. But it was here.

Cad flipped through the channels; glimpses of skin, bodies – nameless, neon, nude, fighting for his attention. A twi’lek twink caught his eye – it did nothing for him – but the humans that were spit-roasting him … They took turns fucking, grunting slurs. Xenophobia made bank nowadays. Always the twi’lek spice slave, the rodian prisoner, the blue-skinned exotic from a planet far off. Cad couldn’t say it did not work on him.

He had chased down many a girl escaped from its handler or agent, whatever name they preferred – not that he cared. He only cared about the pay, but it had given him an insight into the industry, the dark underbelly of a business he was complicit in. These poor girls in the back of his ship, crying their eyes out over some dead boyfriend, some idiot, who believed he could shield her from the ugliness of the universe. If Cad had a heart, it would have ached for them. Pity those pimps paid so darn good.

The twi’lek moaned through a mouthful of cock, his lekku twitched with pain or arousal. (All the same.) Cad rolled his eyes at the performance. Fake sex and fake bodies, you could almost smell the silicone. He took a last drag of the cigarette, half-closed his eyes and tilted his head till the twi’lek was nothing but a blue blur in his peripheral vision. He granted a soft squeeze to his right cock and sighed. Just get it over with.

Finally, he had synced his movements somewhat and if he fooled himself hard enough, the piece of rubber in his ass distantly reminded him of the real deal. “Choke on my fat cock, wormhead,” the actor bellowed, tripped over his lines. No one spoke like that. ‘Shut up,’ Cad mouthed but didn’t move, didn’t dare to lose the sweet spot he had found. “Only thing sleemos are good for, used as cumdumps!” He groaned. It was a miracle he still had his erection.

A familiar beep ripped through his eardrums – the bubble burst, with it a noise of frustration rose in his throat. His hand searched for the control panel before his eyes were fully open. The twi’lek’s plight was frozen in time, cock and balls neatly tucked into frame. Layered over the paused film was the alert for an incoming call. Cad groaned, again, as he pulled out the toy and forced his brain back into work mode. Only now did he take in the caller’s name. His heart skipped a beat. It had been months.

“Bane?”

His mind eased at the sound of a real human voice.

“The one and only.” Cad cleared his throat of any lingering remnants of lust. He stared at the human’s hologram, small and cyan. Fett was in civvies, tattooed arms crossed over his chest and the outline of his biceps pressed against the fabric. Cad’s loins stirred at the sight.

“Apologies,” he muttered to Fett, who apparently was waiting for a hologram to pop up. “Need to get the doggone cam fixed.” He didn’t bother coming up with a better excuse. (It was good enough for Fett.) Cad’s pants dangled around his knees still and he did not intend to get dressed anytime soon. “I see,” Fett answered. “I mean, I don’t.” Cad shifted in his seat and positioned one leg on either side of the hologram. Fingers wrapped around his cock. The paused porn loomed in the background – a grim reminder what his night would look like if he didn’t keep Fett on the line. He began pumping, softly.

“Why yer calling?” He should have felt a tinge of shame, at least, but there was nothing. His decency was buried a full six feet under. “Rrudobar ring any bells for you?”

Cad gave a nod before remembering Fett could not see him: “Yeah.” At first, he halted his movements when he spoke so that his breath would not hitch. He had always been good at masking his emotions, hiding his real intent during an argument. This was but another game – would Fett notice? Cad knew the answer.

“There’s something I need to take care of. We can discuss the … details in person.” Not even a name then. “I take it you trust me?”

“Trust you ‘nuff.”

His eyes lingered on Fett’s pixelated biceps. Cad bit his lip. He was underfucked to Corellia and back if he got off to this.

“Good. I could use somebody who—”

_Only thing sleemos are good for – used as—_ photographic memory be damned. That script was etched into his mind for eternity. Cad pinched the inside of his thigh, a somber reminder to keep his mouth shut. Pain was good though, this was nothing.

Fett was still racking his brains for a word, so Cad decided to help him out: “Someone who knows the local dialect. I can show you ‘round, Fett.” The line rippled with suspicion. “What do you want?” _Inside yer pants,_ he thought. “Half the pay,” he said. He would get inside his pants somehow or other. After a job well done when Fett felt celebratory, Cad would revel in stripping that ugly armor off.

“A handsome pay for a glorified tour guide.” The faintest blue movement told him Fett had raised an eyebrow. “ _You_ called _me,_ ” Cad growled. A tug of his finger sent tingles up his spine. Pushed him closer to the edge. Made him get cocky with Fett: “You wanna keep yer head on yer shoulders? You better be speaking fluent Duros.”

“Isn’t it Durese?”

“ _Dat_ you wanna be speaking too.” He chuckled. A sharp-toothed grin spread across Cad’s face as he watched Jango Fett ponder. He longed to hear it again, his voice, soft as dripping honey but thick and sultry and attractive without trying. Cad’s thoughts wandered back to the porn actors’ comically crude efforts. Granted, Fett won a contest that never was. Who did not fare well compared to plastic.

“You can have a quarter.”

“I will have a third.”

His fist kept a steady pace on his dick, giving each spike a little extra attention. “You rather lose half yer limbs than third yer pay?” Cad left Fett to weigh his non-existing options and continued to jack off in silence. He closed his eyes till the human was just another blur.

“Deal.”

Too easy. Cad hummed a low tune in celebration. He licked his fingers, put them in his mouth and gave a short-lived suck. Unfortunately, he was having a conversation here, if you could call it that.

“It's not about the money this time. More of a training lesson.”

Without making the tiniest noise, he rubbed spit on both his dicks, yet only one reacted. He had not had a proper orgasm in ages.

Fett’s comment stopped him dead in his tracks.

“A _what_ now?”

He opened an eye to gauge Fett's reaction, though he was more focused on how the shirt hugged his frame. Fett motioned to someone offscreen and the thought alone made Cad’s stomach plunge.

“This is my son, Boba.”

Never in his life had he lost an erection that fast. Cad stared at the kid. Dark eyes, darker hair, like a miniature version of his father. “Hello,” the boy said glancing around the room, unsure where to rest his eyes. “Pleasure to meet you, _Boba Fett._ ” Cad spit the name just to get it off his tongue. “This is Cad Bane. We will be working with him soon.”

“Cad Bane?” The kid’s face lit up with joy.

Cad let his boots glide off the console. He wanted nothing more than pull up his pants, forget any of this ever happened. His reflection stared back at him from behind the holocomm; though Cad felt the heat in his cheeks and, without the aid of a mirror, knew emerald had marked his humiliation.

“I forwarded you our coordinates,” Fett announced, one hand resting on his son’s head. Humans and duros both took tremendous pride in their offspring. Cad had never understood either. Shave a couple years of your lifespan and few thousands of your bank account, no guarantee the kid turned out any good. However, with Fett it was different. He always had a plan, an endgame. There was something about that child … Cad’s eyes narrowed.

“Getting cold feet?”

“So long,” Cad mumbled into the palm of his hand. He ended the call before Fett got a chance to reply. His face vanished from the interface and the porn resumed its uninspired course. “You like that, alien freak?” the actor’s fake voice echoed through the cockpit. “You’re into that, you sicko?” Cad kicked the dildo under the switchboard where he didn’t need to see it. Out of sight, out of mind – he wished. The twi’lek moaned in sync with the hot waves of embarrassment that washed over him. Fingers slick with his idiot drool. Stars, he was a fool. Lucky no one knew.

**Author's Note:**

> *matters = his dicks
> 
> Will this man ever not be sexually frustrated? Find out soon because I'm planning to follow up on this with a (short) multichap. Comments much appreciated!


End file.
